


Dark Angels, Wooing

by SweetSorcery



Series: Dark Angels, Wooing/Love's Desperate Adventure [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Comfort, Dark Agenda, Falling In Love, First Time, Gloves, Jealousy, Kinky, Light Angst, M/M, Male Slash, Multi, Rimming, Seduction, Slash, Threesome, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-12
Updated: 2011-08-12
Packaged: 2017-10-22 13:26:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/238499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetSorcery/pseuds/SweetSorcery
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry has never been so tempted to join the Dark Side...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dark Angels, Wooing

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: All canon referred to within belongs to J.K. Rowling, Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books, Raincoast Books, Warner Bros. Inc., and possibly others. Non-canon bits were created for non-profit, non-infringement entertainment.
> 
> Archiving: Absolutely nowhere please, not even in translated form.
> 
> Author's Notes: This was written in August 2007, and yes, there is now a sequel: [Love's Desperate Adventure](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6673414) :)  
> Be sure to read this story first, though, or the sequel will make no sense.

Harry fell into bed, utterly exhausted. It had been a long day in a series of ever longer, ever harder days. Attacks had been occurring more and more frequently since his last school year had ended, and they had become ever more inventive and harder to anticipate. For the duration of the summer, the Order had taken over Hogwarts as headquarters. It was one of the more easily defensible structures available to house a large number of wizards and witches. It seemed as if each day, a new Death Eater plot was uncovered. Some of them were mysteriously thwarted at the last minute, by some force outside the Order; but many, regrettably, succeeded, and the lines of defence were thinning day by day.

It was cold comfort for Harry to be back in his old bed, in his old dormitory, considering he was the only one there. Each of his friends still alive was fighting somewhere else, or staying with someone they loved and needed to protect. Harry had no one like that and yet, ironically, the whole Wizarding world looked to him for protection.

And he was tired of it. So very tired. There were days - like this one - when he was tempted to burn his wand, abandon magic altogether, live as a Muggle and pretend he'd never heard the name Voldemort.

He'd never do it, of course. He was _The Chosen One_ ; never mind that any choosing had happened without his consent. No matter how much he might wish he could abandon it all, he wouldn't. It simply wasn't in his nature. He was a good little pawn and, sometimes, he hated himself for it.

He sighed and curled up in his old bed, seeking comfort in the familiarity of the thick duvet and red wool blanket, in the faint scents of cedarwood and home which emanated from the solid four-poster and the sheets enfolding him. He burrowed deep into the bedding, huddling there with his loneliness and slowly dissipating hope and wishing that, for once, he would at least sleep deeply enough to wake up rested, and maybe even dream something that did not involve blood and death and loss. He squeezed his eyes shut tight, wishing very, very hard while drifting into sleep.

When he felt a cool hand on his forehead, Harry sighed and pressed into the sensation.

"You're very pretty when you're sleeping." The voice was close to Harry's ear and ever so vaguely familiar.

But Harry was asleep, so there was no need to even acknowledge he had been spoken to. Even in sleep, a soft smile curved his lips.

"How do you know you're asleep?" asked the voice.

Harry's eyes opened immediately. "What?" he mumbled drowsily.

"Perhaps you're awake, and perhaps my hand really is resting on your brow, Harry."

Harry tipped his face up and found himself looking into a pair of grey eyes he'd seen some years earlier. It was disconcerting that they were now in an older face - the face of someone his own age, in fact. Even more disconcerting was that the someone looked to be very much flesh and blood. There was no denying it - he was looking at Tom Riddle himself. And he wasn't panicking. Why wasn't he panicking?

"Why should you? I'm no threat to you, Harry, if I'm a mere dream. Tell me, do you often dream of me? Of me as _Tom_?" Riddle sounded amused and curious at once.

"Are you reading my mind because I'm dreaming you?" Harry asked with a frown, wanting to move away from the cool hand calmly stroking his forehead, but unable to make himself. It felt so soothing.

"You keep telling me you're dreaming. So I must be inside your mind, wouldn't you say?"

"But _you_ claim that I'm awake, so you're not in my mind."

Tom smiled. "If you're awake, why aren't you reaching for your wand?"

That was a good question, Harry thought, having to concede that he must indeed be dreaming. And then his head started spinning, because it was what he'd been thinking all along after all.

Tom laughed mockingly.

"Get out of my head, either way!" Harry hissed. He was too tired to think straight and, that too, was odd, because if he was dreaming, why should he feel tired?

"If you had paid more attention to your Occlumency lessons, I probably wouldn't be able to get into your head at all. However, your mind was simply waiting for me, wasn't it? Fertile soil for me to plant my seed." There was a spark of something very unsettling in Tom's eyes.

Harry shifted away from under his hand with great difficulty, then sat up and faced the young man lounging casually behind his pillow. "How do you know about my Occlumency lessons? What do you want?"

"You, Harry. As ever." Tom smirked, ignoring the first question. "You must have noticed by now that I'm quite single-minded on that point." He tilted his head and assessed Harry closely. "And small wonder, too."

Harry's eyes narrowed. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Harry, Harry… so oblivious." Tom leaned forward and grasped Harry's chin.

Harry shivered. No, shuddered. Surely, shuddered. "Don't touch me," he said, but as his voice came out in a husky croak, it sounded like a reluctant invitation rather than a rebuttal. He willed his mind to change that vision of Tom Riddle - young, handsome, sensuous - into the snake-faced bastard he was, _should be_ , but his head refused to cooperate.

"Don't you like me better this way?"

"No!" Harry denied, too quickly, and wasn't surprised when Riddle smirked at him.

"But I look like this because you want me to, Harry. And I don't mind. There are ways I can be like this again, all the time, if that's what you prefer. It would be worth the effort, for you." Tom shifted sinuously down the bed until he was sitting next to Harry, too close, with his leg bent at the knee, one foot on the floor; his feet were bare - pale and slim with high arches and long toes, peeking out from black trousers. Hands to match the elegance of his feet were placed on Harry's thigh and his shoulder respectively.

"Stop that," Harry muttered, desperate to shake off the lethargy he was feeling.

"You don't mean that," Tom purred. The hand on Harry's shoulder moved behind him and caressed the length of his back until it rested at the base of his spine.

"I… yes, I do." Harry blinked and licked his lips, trying to ignore the sensation of warmth following in the wake of Riddle’s hand sliding up and down his back.

"You'll need to try harder to convince me," Tom murmured. "Because right now, I think you would not resist at all if I were to do this." And just like that, he leaned in and kissed Harry.

Harry's eyes didn't close. They widened impossibly and, even in the faint moonlight, he could see that Tom's eyes were closed, long lashes fluttering. And his lips were so soft on Harry's that he found it impossible not to return the kiss.

"That's better." A soft whisper against Harry's lips, tickling them and making him shiver. And then the mouth pressed harder and, after all, Harry thought, why should he resist when he was merely dreaming?

Soft laughter filled his mouth, or was it merely in his head? Harry couldn't make himself care. No one had ever kissed him like this, with such single-minded determination, with so much focus. And Tom's hand left his thigh, pressing against the centre of Harry's chest, helping the hand on his back to lower Harry to the bed. And then there were hands on his shoulders as well, and it took Harry a few moments before he could tear himself out of the kiss-induced trance to question just how many hands Tom Riddle could possibly have.

He turned away and tilted his head up, only to find himself looking into a face nearly as confused as his own, a face that was worryingly familiar as well. "Malfoy!" he hissed, pushing Tom away and sitting up to scoot back against one of the posts at the foot of his bed.

"Mr Potter." The tone of voice gave nothing away.

Tom sighed. "Be nice, you two. And we won't have any of this formality."

Harry blinked at him, his mouth hanging open. Suddenly, dazedly, he realized the absurdity of the situation and laughed out loud. "The thing you're concerned about in all this…" He scoffed, flapping his hand in the air to indicate the three of them. "… is how _formal_ we are being?"

Tom's eyes were stern but, when he moved closer to Harry once more, he raised his right hand to caress Harry's cheek. "Of course. After all, we're here for the same reason."

"I don't know why in Merlin's name you two are here, but I'm here to get some much needed sleep," Harry stated, vaguely aware that Malfoy couldn't stop staring at Riddle. Not that he blamed him.

Tom smiled at Harry indulgently. "You're here, Harry, because you're drained, and lonely, and empty. And you're questioning if it's all worth it. Aren't you, Harry?" Not waiting for an answer - which was just as well, because Harry didn't immediately have one - he continued, "Lucius and I are here to show you that it's not. We're here to show you what your life could be like if you turned your back on this circus." He sneered into the empty dorm room, and it was clear he was indicating more than just Hogwarts. "Don't you wonder how it could be if you were to join us instead?"

A hysterical bark of laughter left Harry's mouth. " _Join_ you?"

Tom was still smiling, undeterred by Harry's reaction, his hand brushing back Harry's hair.

"You're insane." Harry scoffed, knowing deep down that he should be slapping that stroking hand away. "Well, _obviously_ you're insane. But you actually think you can invade my head and somehow tempt me into joining you? You think you're going to talk me into abandoning my friends to help you kill them instead?"

"Your friends would be spared," Tom said, no longer smiling. " _If_ you join me. Not as one of my Death Eaters, you understand."

Harry sneered. "As what then? Your concubine?"

Tom laughed softly. "How quaint. But you undervalue yourself if you think your body is all I want." He frowned. "I mean it, Harry. You're no longer the irritating child who refuses to die. You're a powerful wizard, and I admire that power. I want us to combine our powers and be all the more powerful for it. And if you agree to that - to being at my side - I will spare your friends."

Harry gaped at him. "Why should I believe a word you say?"

"You shouldn't," Tom admitted. "We have not yet begun to convince you." He looked up above Harry's head. "Do stop staring at me, Lucius. What is the matter with you?"

Malfoy shifted uncomfortably. "Forgive me, my Lord. I am not used to seeing you… like this."

Tom smirked, glanced at Harry, then up at Lucius again. "Harry wanted me like this, so it is the form I have taken. Do you find it distracting?"

"I find it… disconcerting, my Lord." Lucius averted his eyes, but only for a moment.

Tom shrugged elegantly, stretching out alongside Harry as if he'd been invited. He looked like a sleek black cat, assessing a mouse. "I must admit, I find _Harry_ rather more distracting than I had expected. My memory in the diary must have had a lot of trouble resisting him."

Harry shuddered and, this time, it really was a shudder. "I was 12! And you were just a puff of smoke without a body, thank Merlin."

Tom chuckled. "Ah yes. Good point. And you would have been far less appealing - an obnoxious little brat, no doubt." Without giving Harry a chance to fire off an indignant reply, he reached out and caressed his knee. "Just as well you've grown into such a handsome young man, and your stubborn streak is quite enticing."

Harry batted the touch away, and then rubbed at his temple with the edge of his hand. He felt a headache coming on. "Look, this would all be very flattering, if you weren't who you are," he stated. "But this dream is no longer amusing, so please bugger off. Both of you."

"Dream?" Lucius Malfoy piped up, sounding surprised and somewhat discomfited. "You think this is an ordinary dream, Mr Potter?"

"Obviously," Harry said, looking back over his shoulder at him. "You two would have set off every boundary alarm on the castle. And _you_ certainly didn't come in the door."

"Ah." At this, Lucius smiled for a very brief moment.

Tom, however, sported a rather pleased smirk. "He's quite enchanting, don't you agree, Lucius?"

When Harry faced him again, Tom was much, much closer. So close, in fact, that Harry couldn't help but notice how good he smelled, how pale his skin was, and how hungrily he looked at him. He gulped, barely even hearing Malfoy's softly murmured agreement to Tom's words.

"Imagine, Harry, what a wonderful dream this could be if you were to humour us. Let us _try_ to convince you." Tom's voice was so soft, so hypnotic. "What do you have to lose? Except, perhaps, some of that tension crushing your spirit day in and day out. Perhaps even your firm conviction that your side has everything you'll ever need." Tom's fingers moved into his hair, the soft pads of his thumbs caressing Harry's cheekbones.

Lucius Malfoy was suddenly right at his side, whispering next to his ear. "You don't need to be cold and lonely, Harry."

Harry's eyes flickered up to him, confused by the words and the gentle voice he'd never heard from the man, but uncomfortably aware how much his libido enjoyed the honeyed tones.

"There's so much you're missing out on," Tom added.

"Like what?" Harry whispered despite himself, even while cursing his Gryffindor curiosity. He was still staring, transfixed, into Lucius Malfoy's grey eyes.

Malfoy purred, "Such pleasures as you can barely imagine." He raised a hand, and Harry flinched. "No, don't fear me. I'm not here to hurt you. _Quite_ the opposite." The raised hand cupped Harry's chin as Malfoy leaned in and pressed his smooth lips to Harry’s.

Harry resisted for a breath's length but, like Riddle, Malfoy was a master at the art of seduction. Yet his kiss was less possessive, less demanding, and the mixture of unexpected gentleness and warmth parted Harry's lips to receive a searching tongue. _A dream,_ Harry chanted in his mind. _Only a dream. No one need ever know..._

When his face was turned and his mouth separated from Lucius', his small whimper of loss was mirrored by the man gazing down at him, and they shared a look of surprise.

"Delightful," Malfoy breathed in a way which sent shivers down Harry's spine.

"Quite," Tom agreed. He cupped Harry's nape, forcing him to look into his eyes. "Indulge us, Harry," he urged, tilting his head until his mouth was so close to Harry's that his breath caressed the damp, quivering flesh. "Let us indulge _you_."

A gloved hand gently rested on the crown of his head at that moment, and the warm scents of vanilla and spices wrapped around him. It was too much. Harry felt his resistance crumbling. It had been months since he'd felt truly warm, forever since someone had put his needs before their own. He'd never not felt used. And he’d never felt truly wanted and cherished. That he should get this sense of protection from Malfoy and Riddle, of all people, was sign enough for him that he was going mad. But when his lips touched Tom's again, it was because _he_ moved forward.

There was a soft, surprised moan from Tom, and then his mouth opened to Harry's, his fingers in his hair.

And Harry allowed himself to let go. They could get him to fight all they wanted during the day, but he had the same right as anyone else to have a sensuous dream, and if his subconscious should choose to provide him with Tom Riddle and Lucius Malfoy of all possible partners, he would simply write it off as another eccentricity no one would ever understand about him. Not that he planned to tell anyone about this.

Tom's hum of agreement vibrated around Harry's tongue, and Harry drew back for a moment. "There's still a chance this might not be a dream," he whispered, almost more to himself.

"Yes, there is." Tom's mouth brushed over the shell of Harry's ear, then his cheek.

"Do you want to stop?" Lucius offered softly, flinching when Tom glared up at him.

Harry did not notice the exchange. "I won't be joining you, just so we're clear on that," he said without hesitation, then added, "But no, I don't want to stop... this."

"Brave Gryffindor." Lucius' lips were below his ear, mouthing the gentle indentation there, before murmuring, "You're turning out to be quite a revelation, Harry."

Harry reached up until his hand was on the back of Lucius' neck, silver-blond hair cascading over his outstretched arm, and tipped up his face in invitation. Instantly, his mouth was covered by warm, smooth lips, prying it open expertly.

Tom watched for a moment, then his fingers went to work on Harry's pyjama buttons.

The kiss grew out of control quickly, with Malfoy’s gloved hands sliding down Harry’s upstretched arms and down his side, sending shivers over his skin.

Tom's hands met them, but from underneath the soft flannel, his long fingers tracing Harry's ribs and his thumbs brushing hardening nipples. Cool air kissed Harry's flushed skin where his top was pushed up. When Lucius drew it back off his shoulders before flinging the garment across the bed, then closed his hands over the bare flesh of Harry's biceps, Harry groaned.

"Beautiful," Malfoy said huskily, resting one knee on the bed next to Harry and leaning down to kiss him again.

Harry reached around the man's waist underneath his cloak, fumbling for buttons, or laces… anything he could find which would reveal skin. Fingers met his own, and he moaned into the kiss when he realised they had to be Tom's, aiding him.

The mattress shifted, and then there was the rustling of fabric, the sound of heavy velvet sliding to the wooden floor and softer sounds of buttons being popped open and fine silk shifting, and when Harry drew back, Lucius Malfoy had lost his cloak and shirt and was wearing only black velvet trousers, already undone. Harry swallowed hard, forcing his eyes back up to meet the silver-grey gaze, blushing when he saw pleased amusement there.

There was a dip of the mattress, and both men looked towards Tom, who lay stretched out on his side, smirking at them. He was still fully dressed. "Don't stop on my account. I'm enjoying the view immensely."

"My Lord," Malfoy said with a slight smile, inclining his head respectfully.

"Tom, for this night," Riddle said in a tone which did not invite argument. "And Harry. And Lucius." When both men nodded, he smiled and glanced at Harry's midsection with a raised brow. "You've put Harry in quite a state, Lucius. Don't you think you owe him relief?"

Harry lowered his eyes, embarrassed that his already rock hard cock twitched at the thought of what Lucius might do.

"No need to blush, Harry." Tom shifted closer. "I'm sure you have nothing to be ashamed of." He reached down and his slim fingers hooked behind the waist of Harry's pyjama bottoms to draw them carefully over his erection.

Harry hissed in a breath when the chill of the room hit his overheated flesh.

"As I thought. Nothing to be ashamed of at all." Tom looked up at Lucius. "Harry is shivering. What are you waiting for, Lucius?"

Lucius looked at him for a moment, then knelt at the side of the bed and drew Harry's pants all the way off. He parted the strong thighs and leaned forward.

"He's very good at this," Tom purred into Harry's ear. "It's quite true that practice makes perfect."

Harry stifled a nervous chuckle, which stuck in his throat when a gloved hand closed around his shaft and a rough tongue swiped slowly across his tip. It circled the head and then retreated so a soft pair of lips could enclose the spongy flesh, and Harry's back arched off the bed.

Tom rested a hand on his rib cage, pressing him back down, and then proceeded to suck and lick his shoulder and the side of his neck while Lucius took him deep into his throat.

Harry had never felt anything like it, and he was sure he had to be thrashing about embarrassingly. But neither of his two lovers seemed to notice or care, far too engrossed in wringing pleasure out of him. Between the long tongue exploring the shell of his ear and the ever-increasing suction on his cock, he knew it would be a matter of moments before he--

And then it all stopped. Harry mewled in displeasure. He blinked his eyes open to find himself looking straight into Tom's.

"Not yet," Tom simply said. "Pleasure is greater the longer it has been kept out of reach."

"Bastard," Harry hissed.

Tom chuckled and lay down on his back next to Harry. "Kneel over me, Harry."

Harry blinked. "Why?"

"Because you'll enjoy what comes next." Tom nodded to Lucius, who stood up and gently turned Harry over, drawing his left knee across Tom's body.

Harry grew flustered, kneeling over the man with his arse in the air and his legs spread wide. Very wide - Tom was making sure of that by spreading his own unnecessarily far. He knew Lucius had a perfect view of… everything.

Cupping Harry's face, Tom drew him down into a kiss deep enough to blot out the world. All except for the feel of soft suede gloves stroking across his buttocks and hips, exploring every inch of skin slowly and thoroughly. When the tips of the gloved thumbs trailed down on either side of his crack, Harry moaned into Tom's mouth, and was rewarded with an agile tongue sliding along his own, curling up against the roof of his mouth, before teasing his tongue into gentle play. A slim hand closed around his nape as if to keep him close.

Which was just as well, because Harry's entire body jolted when the finely stitched seam of a leather glove brushed across his opening - once, twice… before the gloved finger breached him. It felt slick and wet, strangely enough, and absolutely wonderful.

"Lucius is pleasuring you like this…" Tom murmured against Harry's lips. "… to prepare you. For me."

Harry's whimper cut off abruptly when his lips were covered again, and between the breath-stealing kiss and the slow, thorough slide of a finger in and out of his body, he was so hard, it hurt. He tried to push back and force the finger deeper into his body, but Lucius had a firm grip on his left hip, even with one hand, and did not allow it. The finger was turned and twisted gently, and Harry cried out softly into Tom's mouth, his eyes flying open as he reared up.

At that moment, the finger was retracted, replaced by warm breath across his hole, followed a moment later by the swipe of a tongue. Harry held himself completely still, not daring to move and hardly able to breathe when the tongue breached him and wriggled inside.

Tom smiled up into Harry's flushed, sweat-beaded face. "No one has done this to you before." It was not a question.

Harry shook his head briefly, embarrassed and unwilling to admit that no one had ever pleasured him, only used him for their own pleasure with instructions to kiss here and touch there and to get on with it.

The tongue left his body and a gentle hand rested on his arse, a strangely calming antidote to the pounding in Harry's chest.

"This is quite a gift you're giving us," Tom stated, his face bland, but his eyes roaming over Harry's face.

Harry lowered his head, having no intention of letting Tom see his thoughts regarding the sad state of his love life.

Tom pushed him upright, then sat up himself to slide the tight black jumper over his head.

Harry watched as pale skin was revealed, but his concentration broke when Lucius leaned in and whispered into his ear, "You'll be perfectly ready by the time he takes you, Harry. I promise you, there will be no trace of pain." And, causing a sharp intake of breath, he moved his searching finger back inside Harry's body from underneath, with Harry sitting on it, wriggling while waiting for Tom to shift into position.

Harry closed his eyes and moaned softly, lost in the sensation.

"You're not making him come just with that wicked finger of yours alone, are you, Lucius?" Tom's voice was calm - almost too calm, as if he was controlling it carefully.

"Of course not," Lucius said quickly, then lifted Harry back on top of Tom, who had discarded his trousers and was lying stretched out and completely nude.

Harry looked down at Tom's sex standing erect and leaking fluid. He licked his lips, suddenly worried, but then Lucius whispered a spell and his finger slid in and out of Harry's arse even more smoothly, and Harry realised he was being lubricated. Excessively so, even.

Tom's hands gripped his hips and, with a smooth shift in position, he held Harry poised above his cock.

Gasping, Harry arched his neck and scrunched his eyes closed. He couldn't imagine how Tom would fit inside him but, inch by inch, he kept sliding in. It was strange and uncomfortable but, at the same time, it felt amazing. He was very grateful for Lucius' thorough preparation.

"Don't hold back, Harry," Lucius murmured close to his ear. "Ride him, moan, scream if you must."

And as if permission, or perhaps Lucius' voice, had been all he'd been waiting for, Harry groaned, rocking down against Tom and, in the process, seating himself fully on his groin.

"Ah, Harry!" Tom gasped, bucking up against him, his fingers like vices on Harry's waist. "Yesss, oh yes, just like that."

And Harry, encouraged, continued to rock and moan, moving up and down ever faster. When he felt another pair of hands on his hips, applying pressure and, ever so slightly, tilting his hips back and forth as he moved, he cried out, the cock inside him hitting a spot which had him seeing stars. His own cock was twitching and dripping, and Lucius' hands were there next, grasping him and milking him hard, droplets splattering on Tom's flat stomach.

"Squeeze around me, Harry," Tom panted. "Yes, like that."

Harry clenched his muscles around Tom's cock, drawing up slowly, then forcing himself down hard. And then he came, his cock spurting in Lucius' hand and covering Tom's chest and stomach in his spunk.

Tom followed a moment later with a soft gasp, then a full body shudder as he filled Harry.

Lucius was there to catch Harry when he slumped back, slowly drawing him against his own chest while Tom's limp cock slipped messily from his body.

Before Harry quite knew what was happening, he felt Lucius' cock at his dripping hole. He gasped.

"Please," Lucius merely whispered against his ear, breathlessly. Urgently.

"Yes," Harry whispered back.

There was a softly spoken spell, and any trace of Tom's emission inside Harry's body was gone, replaced - by way of another whispered spell - by a new dose of smooth lubrication. Only then was he breached again, Lucius sliding inside almost painfully gently.

Harry shivered at the feeling, over-sensitised and slightly sore, but there was no pain due to Lucius taking his time and the lubricant soothing any discomfort. Impossibly, Harry knew he would be getting hard again soon.

Tom knelt in front of them, watching Lucius with his arms wrapped around Harry's middle, holding him back against his chest, keeping his legs wide open with his own thighs. He smirked, and bent his head down into the warm V-shaped space between their legs.

Harry whimpered when he felt the tongue-tip lapping at his sticky cock, then clutched at Lucius' calves as the tongue licked down to his balls and then the crease where thigh met hip.

Lucius kept going, tilting his hips up and lifting Harry on each upward stroke, allowing Tom better access. He was biting his lip while Tom licked at his length each time it slid out of Harry's arse, and flickered around the edge of the now stretched and wet opening each time he was seated all the way inside.

"Harry…" Lucius murmured, his chin resting lightly on Harry's shoulder. "You're so perfect." A kiss was pressed against the side of Harry's neck. "So warm and tight."

Harry whimpered, the deep voice and compliments, and the now bare hands on his waist and lightly caressing his chest, slowly making him hard again.

Tom started cleaning the insides of Harry's thighs with long, luxuriant licks, giving a low growl when he realised the cock brushing his cheek was filling again already.

Harry didn't watch him, his head resting on Lucius' shoulder, his eyes closed. He was drowning in Lucius' warm breath on his damp skin, and shivering at his words - at once tender and erotic - pouring into him like warm oil, filling him up and setting his blood racing. He was moaning continuously now and, when Lucius' hand stilled over his heart, he was quite unaware that he reached up to cover it with his own.

There was a soft, almost suppressed sob, muffled against Harry's shoulder as Lucius found his release inside him, and both of them stilled for a moment. When Harry turned his face to flutter a kiss against Lucius' neck and whisper his name, it was the kind of dazed, post-coital gesture that could be waved aside as an accident. But when feverish grey eyes met his, Harry pressed his lips to Lucius' mouth, awkward though his position was. Lucius returned his kiss hungrily, delving deep into the warmth and indulging in the taste which felt so familiar already. And it was at that moment that Harry came for a second time, his prick untouched and his sigh of release spilling into Lucius' mouth.

Tom looked up sharply, watching with narrowed eyes. The moment the kiss ended, he leaned in, whispering… nearly hissing… into Harry's ear, "Join us." He looked at Lucius as if to dare him.

Lucius held the gaze for a moment, then obediently murmured, "Join… us, Harry."

Something nagged at Harry's consciousness, some question he had but did not think he could, or should, put into words. When Tom grasped his chin and turned his face so he had to meet the searching gaze, Harry thought it important not to blink or waver in any way when he said, "No."

Tom sucked in a deep breath, and there was a spark of fury in his eyes. A moment later, he had it under control, releasing the breath slowly and forcing a cold smile. "I must admit, I'm disappointed, Harry. When unending pleasure could be yours for the taking, you choose to continue this dull, ordinary existence instead. You choose to be… vulnerable." The threat was subtle, but it was there.

"I cannot change who I am, as you cannot change who you are," Harry said coldly. "No pleasure is worth betraying yourself."

Lucius' arms tightened around Harry almost imperceptibly, and Harry wondered why he felt instantly, irrationally, comforted by the gesture.

Tom looked deep into his eyes for another moment but, for once, Harry's mind was entirely closed to him. Torn between annoyance and reluctant admiration that Harry was finally learning to shield himself, he merely lied, "I see." Then he stood and dressed unhurriedly, facing away from the two men slowly separating at the foot of the bed.

Harry looked at Lucius while he pulled on his pyjamas, blinking when the man whispered a soft spell which left him feeling clean and refreshed. "Thank you," he whispered as quietly as he could.

Lucius merely nodded, but there was a storm of emotions in his eyes, leaving Harry confused and worried that Tom might see them. Driven by an impulse, he sneered at Lucius and said loudly enough for Tom to hear him, "Well, that was fun. Now go away, both of you, so I can get some sleep."

His eyes did not reflect his words, unused as he was to deception, but Lucius understood what Harry was trying to do. He nodded stiffly, his own eyes shuttered and as cold as they had ever been. "Very well, Mr Potter."

Tom turned to look at them, pleased when he found a sneer on Lucius' face and Harry ignoring him by scrambling back into his bed. "Goodbye, Harry. We'll see each other again soon," Tom taunted. "I'm nothing if not patient, as you should know by now."

Harry merely glared at him, careful to avoid Lucius' eyes altogether. The moment he rested his head back on his pillow, he felt terribly sleepy and, within seconds, he had drifted off.

* * *

A hazy stream of light entered the dormitory through one of the windows hours later and, when Harry slowly opened his eyes open, he realised that for the sun to shine in, he had to have slept in nearly until lunchtime. No wonder, after a dream like that, but at least he felt well rested. And for the first time in what seemed like years, he felt warm. He sat up slowly to stretch, and put a slight twinge in his backside down to his overactive imagination.

Nevertheless, he looked around the room at great length. Nothing was out of the ordinary, and there was no sign of anyone but himself having been in the dormitory. He gnawed on his lower lip nervously, and nearly bit through the tender flesh when he thought he tasted… Lucius. The sense memory was instantaneous and powerfully arousing, and Harry whimpered softly.

A loud screech outside the window caused Harry to jump and turn around - a majestic eagle owl was fluttering imperiously back and forth on the other side of the glass. He hurried to open the window, and the large bird flew in, made a wide loop above his bed where it dropped a parchment, and flew right back out again without pause.

Harry stared after it for a moment as it dissolved into a tiny dark speck to the south, then went to pick up the cream-coloured parchment. He felt nervous and oddly excited at once as he untied the scarlet ribbon to unfold the single sheet. His eyes widened and he sat down heavily as he read the words:

_Don't despair, for all is not as it seems, and you are not alone. Not anymore._

Harry held the note to his pounding heart. It bore no signature, but none was required.

 

THE END


End file.
